


What Kind Of Man

by thedark_before_thedawn



Series: How Big How Blue How Beautiful [1]
Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:25:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedark_before_thedawn/pseuds/thedark_before_thedawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florence finds herself in a less than ideal relationship but doesn't know how to end it. Meanwhile Isabella doesn't know how to initiate the relationship that she wants with Florence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Kind Of Man

“Isa! Isa, this is our song!” Florence shouted. She was in a club somewhere in London with Isa. They were beyond drunk and had spent most of the evening bitching about Florence’s new boyfriend, Harry. Florence had decided to drink away her pain, emotional and physical, caused by Harry, and Isabella was drinking her pain of having to see her best friend this broken down and in this much pain.  
The more drunk they had gotten, the more physical they were with each other; and currently, Florence had taken to grinding on Isa as Single Ladies blared through the speakers.  
Isa felt her heart beat heavier as she felt Florence grinding harder on her. They were standing at the side now and Isa’s back was grazing the wall. Florence turned around with a drunken grin and kissed Isa’s forehead before enveloping her in a death-grip hug.  
“I’m so glad I have you Isabella.” She slurred.  
Isa, being the more sober of the two, just chuckled at her; not wanting to make Florence aware of her feelings. She just held her until Florence’s grip loosened.  
“What’s the time?” Florence asked, grabbing onto Isa’s arm to quickly steady herself.  
“It’s 4am Florence.” Isa said, putting her phone back into her pocket.  
“I should go.” She whispered.  
But Florence didn’t move. If anything, she was standing closer to Isabella than before. She was looking down at Isa, straight into her eyes. Their lips were only inches from each other’s. Florence could swear she could physically see Isabella’s heart rate increased. A playful grin slowly spread across Flo’s face as she leaned down further. Isa closed her eyes and held her breath as she felt Florence’s breath tickle her cheek as she planted a kiss there. “Let’s go.” She whispered before taking Isa’s hand and weaving in and out of other drunken people as she tried to find the exit.  
They stood outside, welcoming the cold air that hit their exposed skin as soon as they came out of the club. They walked around the corner from the entrance and leaned against the brick wall on the corner, still holding hands.  
“I need to get home.” Florence slurred again as her tiredness hit her. “Harry’s probably still there waiting for me.” She said, feeling guilty for not having text him all night.  
“Florence…” Isa began, turning to look up at her friend and her gaze being met by those illuminating green eyes. “You can’t.” She said, almost a whisper.  
Florence looked at her with a sad smile. “I have to.” She turned to walk away and only got a few paces before a tug on her arm made her turn back around. Even in the dark, unlit street, she could see that Isa was on the verge of tears.  
“I’ve seen what he does to you Florence.” She said, her emotions making her voice slightly louder and angrier.  
“Isa, please-”  
“No!” Isa shouted.  
Florence let out a sigh, glad that they were not longer on the busy road; she could face her friend knowing about her broken relationship but the last thing she wanted was for the whole world to know.  
“I’ve seen the bruises, Florence. I’ve seen how miserable you’ve been since he’s been in your life and I’ve seen just how much you’ve been drinking since. You can’t keep going back to him. He’s not good for y-”  
“He loves me, Isa.” Florence said, looking more sober and much more serious.  
Isa said nothing. She held Florence gaze but she couldn’t say what she really wanted; and it was too late anyway. Florence had started walking off back home leaving Isa standing on the sidewalk. “I do too.” She finally whispered, her tears finally spilling over as she leant down to take off her heels. She held them in her hand as she walked back home, her bare feet staying on the smoother yellow lines on the side of the road rather than the pavement.

Florence was home within half an hour and was extremely surprised, and honestly a little bit proud, that she had managed to not get lost in her drunken state.  
She walked up the pathway and felt her stomach drop as she saw that the lights were still on; Harry was still up. She’d planned in her head that she would get in quietly and sleep on the sofa as not to wake up Harry but she could tell he was probably waiting for her to get in so he could shout; and she didn’t have her keys.  
She slowed her pace as she approached her door but before she could even knock her door it opened and Harry stood there with his ruffled black hair and eyes to match.  
She stopped walking a few paces short of the door and looked at him in an exhausted fear.  
“Get in.” He said, coldly.  
She dropped her gaze to her feet as she walked the few paces to the door, up the step and into the house; brushing past him. She kicked off her shoes and walked through to the kitchen. She noticed the bottle, her bottle, of Jack Daniels open and now half drunk, on the table. She walked past it and got herself a glass of water. She drank it in one and turned around leaning against the side as she heard Harry walked into the kitchen.  
“Have a nice time with my bottle of Jack?” Florence mumbled angrily, finally looking up to meet his gaze. She saw his jaw clench and dropped her vision back down to her feet.  
“Have a nice time with your slag?” He spat out.  
Florence’s head shot up. She could feel her cheeks burning with anger as she looked at him.  
“Did you?!” He asked again, his voice rising. “Have a little kiss? A little cuddle?” He was walking slowly towards her and she could feel herself shrinking under his glare. “God Florence! You’re so fucking irresponsible!” He shouted, inches from her face causing her to flinch.  
“Says you.” She mumbled back.  
“What was that?” He shouted, stepping back slightly.  
“You heard.” She snapped. “I’m irresponsible am I? I’m irresponsible for deciding to go out and have fun with my friend on my year off from work whereas what do you do, Harry?!” She shouted. “You do nothing. You don’t fucking work, you don’t go out and see friends, all you do is hang around here using my things, eating my food and drinking my alcohol. You are the one with no responsibilities.” She looked up at him.  
It was like he was literally shaking with anger.  
Before he could move to her, she closed the distance between them, almost flinging herself at him as she put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. She was reminded momentarily of why she still was around him; because every time they kissed it lit a fire in her that spread through her body. She felt him kiss back but only briefly before he brought his hand up to meet Florence’s cheek, with enough force to knock her off balance in her drunken state; causing her to fall to the floor.  
She held her cheek gently as she looked up at Harry, who was looking down at her like she was nothing. Florence continued to look up at him even through her tears, causing him to appear as no more than a blob. He moved forward and knelt down beside her and she sat herself up; her back resting on the cupboard.  
“Here,” he said going to hold her hand, “let’s get you up.” Despite his movements being slow and his tone nothing but soft, Florence flinched just as hard.  
“Don’t touch me.” She growled at him, standing up and walking back through the kitchen to the living room and sitting on the sofa with her head in her hands.  
“Florence, please.” She looked up to see him on his knees in front of her, his eyes level with her and his fingers locking themselves between Florence’s. “I don’t know what came over me.” He said quiet pathetically.  
“Let go.” She sobbed, trying to free her hands.  
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, not loosening his grip.  
“You’re a-always s-s-sorry.” She stuttered, struggling to talk as she sobbed harder.  
“Come here.” He went to put his arms around Florence but she stood up suddenly and pushed him back.  
“Don’t touch me! You know, Isa was right about you. You’re not good enough for me.” She quickly walked out of the living room and towards the hallway to try and find her shoes.  
“Where are you going?!” She heard him shout, coming after her.  
She didn’t answer him but decided she was getting out of there with or without her shoes.  
“Where are you going?!” He shouted again, running to her and pushing her violently to stop her from getting to the door.  
“I was going to go to Grace’s.”  
“You’re going upstairs.” He said.  
Before she could even argue he’d lifted her up so she was over his shoulder and he started to walk upstairs.  
“Put me the fuck down.” Florence shouted before yelling out in pain as her foot hit the banister hard.  
He carried her through to the bedroom and sat her on the edge on the bed. “You’re staying up here.” He said. “Don’t you see it’s for your own good? I love you.”  
And with that her stomach dropped. They were the three words she loved hearing him say but she couldn’t deny the truth. “No man loves like this.” She said quietly, tears still spilling down her cheeks.  
He stepped back, looking down at her. “Go wash your face.” He said.  
She stood up and walked to the bathroom without even glancing at him; it would just make her cry harder. She pushed the door to and took her clothes off. She turned to look at her reflection in the mirror. She traced her fingers over the various blue and green bruises that adorned her body. Some were yellowing and barely visible against her pale skin but others were a deep blue and purple. She traced them from her abdomen up past her chest, her arms, her shoulder and finally she looked at her face. There was a deep red mark on her cheek and there was a mark already starting to darken on her cheek bone.  
“You fucking fool.” She whispered at herself and dropped her gaze to her feet but even then she could see that it was red and starting to bruise from hitting it on the way upstairs.  
She took deep breaths as she looked back at her reflection and attempted to remove her make-up without it hurting too much.  
She took off her bra and found last night’s t-shirt on the floor and put it on. She looked down with a sad smile remembering that it was actually Isa’s t-shirt she was wearing and it still faintly smelt of her. She sighed and turned off the light as she made her way back into her room.  
Harry was already in bed under the covers. Florence turned off the light and climbed in next to him, and giving into her need to be cuddled at night, she put her head on his chest and an arm over him…but he shoved her off and turned over onto his side.

*

“Isa please, can you just come and pick me up now?” Florence was saying. She had woken up alone the next morning and decided she wanted to go to the studio before Harry came back.  
“Flo, I’m not even dressed.” Isa mumbled, hungover and tired.  
“It doesn’t matter, just pick me up then we can go back to yours and you can get dressed.” Flo argued back. “Please just pick me up before Harry gets back.” She said, regretting it instantly. She knew she had now given Isa more reason to worry about her if she sounded as though she was scared of him.  
“Florence, I can’t pick you up right this second but-”  
Florence hung up. She didn’t want to hear Isa’s excuses. She felt as though yet another person didn’t actually love her.  
She decided she would walk to the studio if it meant leaving before she saw Harry. She grabbed her phone and purse, put on her sunglasses and left her house, double-locking the door behind her knowing that Harry only had one key and therefore wouldn’t be able to get in.

Her walk was borderline a run as she walked the long distance to Crystal Palace. She only relaxed a bit when she had walked half an hour away from her house. She kept her head down, not wanting to attract any attention, and just focused on the music playing in her headphones; which she had thankfully found in her jean pockets when she put them on.  
She walked for another hour before she reached Isa’s studio. She bought a cup of coffee to wake her up before walking round the corner to sit on the step up to the studio, out of sight.  
She was luckily only waiting for ten minutes before Isa showed up.  
“Did you walk here?!” She exclaimed, making Florence, who had been looking at the ground, jump.  
Florence just nodded and stood up, waiting for Isa to unlock the door.  
She walked in behind Isa and sat down on the small sofa, taking off her sunglasses.  
“I’ve got the demo of the track Kid Harpoon was writing with you. If you want, we could try and get some lyrics down and som-” Isa stopped when she turned back around to look at Florence. Her heart sunk as she saw she bruise on Florence’s cheekbone.  
“Some what?” Florence asked timidly, feeling self-conscious under Isa’s gaze.  
“Florence,” Isa said, almost a whisper.  
“What?” Florence couldn’t even look at her; she was staring at her hand in her lap.  
Isa walked towards her and sat down next to her. “Florence, you can’t go back to him.” She said. She could feel a lump in her throat and tried not to let it show just how upset she was. She took Florence’s hand in her own. “Flo? Please look at me.” She whispered. It was a few seconds before Florence finally did. “Please Florence, please don’t go back. I can see how much he’s hurting you. Every time I see you there’s new bruises or little marks on your body.”  
Florence looked back down at hers and Isa’s hands and shrugged. “I bruise easily.” She mumbled.  
“Don’t.” Isa snapped but returned to a softer voice when she saw how it made Florence flinch. “I…I can take care of you, Florence. If you just leave him.”  
Florence saw something drop onto their hands and looked up to see that Isa was now crying.  
“Please Florence? You have no idea how much it hurts to see you like this. Please? I love you Florence. I love you and I can love you better than he can.”  
Florence found herself crying too as she watched Isa’s heart break as she confessed her feelings. It wasn’t as if Florence didn’t know; she’d just avoided thinking about it because it would mean she would have to acknowledge her own confusing feelings for Isa. Florence leant her forehead against Isa’s as she cried but both their heads shot up a minute later when they heard a knock on the studio door and heard it open. They let go of each other’s hands as they saw Harry walk in looking uncomfortable.  
“Florence-” It was all he managed to say before Isa stood up in front of Florence, blocking her from view.  
“Get out.” She said, sternly.  
“Florence…please?” He begged, ignoring Isa. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”  
Florence stood up and put a hand on Isa’s shoulder to gently move her out of the way.  
“Florence, no.” Isa said, holding onto her hand.  
Florence looked back at Isa and then at Harry.  
“Flossie, I need you.” He begged.  
Florence didn’t know what to do. She felt torn between making sure her friend, who’d just confessed her love for her, didn’t feel rejected and wondering whether Harry was sincere. She couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d finally seen just how much he was hurting her.  
She leant her forehead against Harrys and took a deep uncertain breath. She looked up into his eyes, no longer looking quite so threatening. She looked into them knowing that she didn’t feel the same way she felt when she looked into Isa’s eyes when she looked into Harry’s…but he said he needed her. She pulled her hand free from Isa’s grip and took Harry’s hand.  
“I’m sorry.” She said sadly, looking back at Isa who was crying heavier now as she watched Harry almost pull Florence to the door and out the studio.

The drive home in Harry’s car would have been silent if it weren’t for Florence’s crying; that she tried hard to silence.  
He parked in front of Florence’s and she got out straight away and walked up to her house, unlocking it and heading straight for the living room just wanting some space from him.  
But he walked in not long after her.  
“Harry, please. I just need some space.” She whispered.  
He came and sat next to her on the sofa nevertheless. She sat once again with her head in her hands and tears lightly running down her cheeks.  
“Do you remember when we met?” He said after a while, his hand rubbing Florence’s back softly.  
“Don’t.” She whispered.  
“You looked beautiful.”  
“I said don’t!” She shouted, standing up and facing him. “Don’t try and worm your way back in after what you’ve done.”  
“Well then why the hell did you come back with me?!” He snapped, raising his voice and standing up to look Florence level in the eyes.  
“Because I wanted you as far away from Isabella as I could get you!” She shouted back.  
“God! Why am I even with you Florence?! Huh? You’re pathetic! All you do is mope around all day long. Maybe if you did something once in a while you might not be so depressed anymore. So many people have it worse off than you Florence and you are doing nothing to help yourself!”  
“I can’t beat my depression and I can’t beat my demons while you’re around!” She shouted, pushing Harry hard on the chest. “I can beat it while I’m still with you. So, if you want me to be okay then leave.”  
“I’m not leaving. I love you.”  
“Love? Love?! Harry, this isn’t love. And I am not the one who is pathetic, you are!” And then he hit her; again. She refused to let herself fall down though. She struggled forming sentences through her tears and heavy breathing, but she still stood upright facing him. “You are pathetic.”  
He pushed her hard against the wall and pinned her arms against it. He glared at her, into her eyes while she tried to compose herself a little more. And then he kissed her. It was rough and forceful; and she almost gave in. She momentarily kissed back before realising the fire inside her wasn’t out of love but out of anger and fear. She tried to move her head away but he was too strong.  
“Stop!” She yelled but to not effect. “STOP!!” She screamed. After ignoring her again, she went to her last resort and kicked him as hard as she could straight between the legs. He doubled over in pain. “What is wrong with you?!” She screamed before running as fast as she could to the door. She heard him coming after her but he was slower than before. She opened it and ran down straight out of her house. She heard him call after her which was also followed by the sound of her front door shutting which, despite being slightly terrified, was one thing that almost made her smile; knowing Harry couldn’t get back in as she’d heard him put his keys down earlier.  
She ignored him and just ran as fast as she could through London. She ignored the stares and the calls of her names from people recognising her and she just ran.  
Ten minutes later she was out of breath, teary and standing outside Grace’s house. She rang the bell and waited for Grace to open the door before bursting into tears and falling into her sisters arms.  
“Florence, what’s wrong?!” She asked over and over.  
“I-I n-need Isa.” She stuttered through her sobs.  
“What’s wrong?” Grace asked again, rubbing circles on Flo’s back.  
“Please, Grace. J-just drive me to Isa’s.” She said, looking at her sister.  
Grace looked at Florence properly for the first time and saw the marks and bruises on her skin. Her heart sank. She nodded and grabbed her keys before leading Florence to her car.

The sisters didn’t say anything on the way but Grace kept giving Florence worried glances as her crying got heavier and heavier.  
They arrived outside Isa’s studio and Florence was relieved to see that Isa’s car was still parked right outside. Grace got out first and walked round to open Florence’s door and help her out; wrapping an arm round her waist as they walked to the door.  
Grace knocked and waited for the small blonde to open the door.  
Isa looked up at Grace confused.  
“I have something of yours.” Grace said, nudging Florence.  
Isa looked at Florence and was heartbroken for the third time that day. She could see bruises forming on Florence’s wrist as well as other places.  
Florence looked up from her feet at Isa and whatever small amount of control she had over her crying was gone.  
“I’m s-so s-s-sorry.” She cried.  
Isa stepped forwards immediately to wrap her arms tightly around Florence.  
“I’ve got her from her Grace.” Isa said. “I’ll text you later.”  
“Okay.” Grace said, stepping back. “I love you Flo.” She walked to her car and drove away slowly.  
Isa pulled Florence inside and sat her down on the sofa. Sitting soon turned to cuddling as Isa lay on her back on the small sofa and Florence lay her head on Isa’s chest and the rest of her practically on top of the rest of Isa’s body. Isa held her like that for what felt like hours.

Florence had finally stopped crying after a while and, from her silence, Isa thought she was asleep until she spoke.  
“I think I’ve got some lyrics.” She whispered against Isa’s chest.  
“Florence, don’t worry about that now.” Isa murmured, brushing the hair from Florence’s eyes softly.  
“No,” Florence began, sitting up, “I want to. I want to do it before I forget.”  
Isa complied and began setting up while Florence scribbled lyrics onto a piece of paper.

“Are you ready?” Isa asked.  
Florence nodded and began singing…

I was on a heavy tip  
Tryna cross a canyon with a broken limb  
You were on the other side  
Like always, wondering what to do with life.  
I’d already had a sip  
So I’s reasoned I was drunk enough to deal with it  
You were on the other side  
Like always, you could never make your mind.

And with one kiss  
You inspired a fire of devotion  
That lasted 20 years  
What kind of man loves like this?

To let me dangle at a cruel angle  
Oh my feet don’t touch the floor  
Sometimes you’re half in and then you’re half out  
But you never close the door

What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man?

You’re a holy fool all coloured blue  
Red feet upon the floor  
You do such damage, how do you manage?  
Tryna crawl in back for more

And with one kiss  
You inspired a fire of devotion  
That lasted 20 years  
What kind of man loves like this?

What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man?

But I can’t beat you  
‘Cause I’m still with you  
Oh mercy I implore  
How do you do it?  
I think I’m through it  
Then I’m back against the wall

What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man?

What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man loves like this?  
What kind of man?

“Flo…” Isa didn’t know what to say.  
Florence looked at her nervously and gave her a small smile. “I just needed to get at least one thing out today.” She said, taking off her headphones and leaning against Isa’s desk.  
“Well what’s the other thing?” Isa asked, looking up at her.  
Florence looked into Isa’s blue eyes and took a deep breath. Fuck it she thought a she leaned down and placed a hand on Isa’s cheek before kissing her.


End file.
